Passive Aggressive
by Lacuna Miyamoto
Summary: Gojyo's never really forgiven Sanzo for just up and leaving the monkey like that. But, well, maybe he never really did. In any case, no one really lies when they're asleep.


**Passive Aggressive**

Disclaimer: Saiyuki is property of Kazuya Minekura.

Please Enjoy

When they were finally reunited, Sanzo had his back to them, facing Hazel and Gat. Both Hazel and Gat had started to wave as they noticed the motley trio, Hazel grinning broadly. Sanzo couldn't quite summon the strength to care enough to turn to them. Hell, he barely even turned his head to the side before greeting them.

"What the fuck took you so long?" It was like they'd never been apart. And when the fighting and chaos had settled down, Hazel and Gat decided to leave on their own again, parting after a healthy round of antagonizing the boys. He'd leaned close to Gojyo and had whispered a single sentence in his ear.

"_Mister Sanzo, y'know,_" He'd said with his thick western accent, "_I reckon he didn't leave yer Son Goku fer a minute._" Gojyo hadn't the faintest idea what that was even supposed to mean.

He was pretty sure he got the gist of it now, though.

He didn't really know why he'd woken up, all he knew was that he was awake. Still drunk and awake. He'd flung an arm over his eyes and groaned, twisting away from the wall. Sanzo was sleeping on the other side of the room, under the window. He'd frowned deeply. _Supposed_ to be sleeping. The moon was huge that night, and it light up the entire room, silhouetted Sanzo. Gojyo had stood and stumbled towards Sanzo's hunched form. And had shrunk back in surprise, suddenly very sober.

Sanzo was starring blankly, his violet eyes fixated on nothing at all. Gojyo whispered his name in curiosity and, perhaps, worry. He got no reply and so he nudged Sanzo's arm. That got a reply, but one far from what he'd expected.

"_Kill_…" The words bubbled from Sanzo's lips like smoke wafting from the jaws of a dragon, and they echoed like a gunshot in a quiet family home. Gojyo nearly had a heart attack, stunned senseless. This wasn't the irritated death threat he knew, this was promise of slaughter. Murder and rage seethed from every pore.

"What… what are you talking about?" He whispered harshly, tightening his grip on Sanzo's arm. Realizing then, that the fact Sanzo hadn't backhanded him across the room was reason enough to believe that Sanzo was still asleep.

"_Him_… _I'll_ _kill_ _him_…" More smoke, more fire and promises of death. Sanzo still starred ahead from behind his bangs, his eyes hollow and out of focus. It gave Gojyo shivers to see him like this.

"Who? Why?"

"_I'll kill him…_" Sanzo was shaking with fury by now, his hands moving awkwardly through the sheets, clawing at them, as if he were trying to pull them apart, as if the target of his hatred was there. Gojyo leaned close.

"What did he do?" he asked firmly.

"_He_ _hurt_…" Gojyo already knew what the next word was going to be, and he let go of Sanzo's arm, sitting down on the ground with a rueful smile on his lips. It explained a lot. Sure, he was still pissed at him for ever leaving the monkey, but it seemed, that while Sanzo had left Goku, Goku had never left Sanzo. Hazel had gotten a little mixed up.

"…_Goku_…" Sanzo's voice sounded desperate. Gojyo snapped back, remembering where he was. He smiled sadly, getting back up on his knees. He placed his hand back on Sanzo's arm and leaned into his ear again. The monk's hair was like hallow gold in the moonlight. Gojyo realized his fascination with the monk was pretty fucking unhealthy, but well, that could've been another curse of his.

"Goku's fine. He's alive and kicking and screaming, and the first thing you'll hear when you wake up is him shrieking for food. Goku's fine." He patted Sanzo's arm lightly before forcing him to lay down. Sanzo's eyes slid into focus, then closed and Gojyo turned away, running a hand through his hair.

"I can just fucking forget about sleeping," he muttered, checking for cigarettes and lighter before leaving the room. He lit up before the door to the inn behind him even closed, starring up at that big pale moon. It did strange things to people.

When Sanzo woke up, the first thing he did, indeed, hear was Goku shrieking for food, and, though he'd never admit it, it soothed his nerves just ever so slightly. He vaguely remembered his nightmare from the night before, a familiar voice and red hair. If that meant what he thought it meant, the cockroach would be dead by noon.

He barely managed to make it down the steps with his pride intact. At the very least, he managed it with only one hand gripping the railing, not both. Had he really drunk that much last night? When he got to the kitchen, he found two of his companions where he figured they be; Hakkai at the stove and Goku at the table, shoveling food into his mouth. But Gojyo… he stopped, raising his eyebrows.

Gojyo was sitting slumped over the table, his red hair fanning out around him. His hands were curled against his chest and he was drooling. Sleeping peacefully. That thing where irritating fucks look like angels when they sleep? It didn't apply to Gojyo. Not in Sanzo's opinion, anyway. He was about to wake the halfling up in the rudest way possible, when he felt a sudden aversion to it. For some reason, he really did want the man to get a little peace. So he sat down across from him and unfolded his newspaper.

The morning was peaceful, relatively. Sanzo couldn't get rid of the feeling he owed the red head something, god knows what, and it began to irritate him considerably. And while for some reason he lacked the heart, this morning, to just be a general asshole to the man, he could still allow himself to be a little passive aggressive.

Folding his newspaper over one arm, Sanzo took the heavy glass ashtray and set it down on Gojyo's fan of hair before returning to his newspaper, pleased.

Gojyo would be pissed.


End file.
